


tradition

by treesramblings



Series: twelve days of stuckony [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29080596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treesramblings/pseuds/treesramblings
Summary: When James and Steve feel nostalgic for the old days, they decide to decorate a Christmas tree. After the rest of the Avengers get involved, James realizes he’s not justTony and Steve’s boyfriendanymore. He’s family.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Thor/Janet Van Dyne
Series: twelve days of stuckony [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073828
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vicnic90](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicnic90/gifts), [JimmieJive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimmieJive/gifts).



> biggest of thanks to [blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fundamentalblue) for cheering me on when I did well, scolding me when I messed up, and comforting me when I hated my writing. oh, and betaing. 💗
> 
> for vic and jimmie, both of whom have given me endless support and smiles.
> 
> if anyone is interested, here’s the [news broadcast from 1998](https://youtu.be/dMwMgaqVxuY) mentioned in the first part. this is what they actually would have seen on television as this report is from new york.
> 
> a little history that really has nothing to do with the story asides from helping understand james and steve’s pov about fdr vs clinton, but is interesting to me anyway (courtesy of the radiant [juulna🔥](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juulna)):  
> \- pre-wwii, fdr’s new deal was [horrendously unpopular](https://www.cato.org/publications/commentary/how-fdrs-new-deal-harmed-millions-poor-people) with the poor. it sorta froze a lot of people’s opinions of him.  
> \- during the war, the japanese internment camps was an [executive order](https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/us-history/rise-to-world-power/us-wwii/a/fdr-and-world-war-ii) by fdr.  
> \- also during the war, fdr was an [amazing commander in chief](https://www.history.com/news/rethinking-fdr-as-commander-in-chief), and didn't needlessly risk soldiers lives. he even managed to get churchill to sign and agree to some moral clauses for the war.
> 
> all that aside...
> 
> please enjoy x

“Now, Eyewitness News.”

James sits next to Steve on the couch, watching the news play on the television in the common area. The screen cuts to President Bill Clinton speaking at a podium. “It’s what I’ve tried to do for six years, it’s what I intend to do for two more, until the last hour of the last day of my term.”

A reporter speaks up then, and the clip switches over to two correspondents in the studio. “Just hours after his impeachment, a defiant President vows to carry on the business of the country…”

Steve crosses his arms, glaring at the television as the reporter adds more context to the historical vote. Worry lines crease his forehead.

“Ya know, Stevie, as much as I didn’t like FDR, he never woulda acted this way.” James leans his head on his hand, sighing. “Even if he did fuck us over with the New Deal, he handled the War as it should’ve been. Can’t believe this is what the highest power in America is like nowadays.”

“You’re not wrong, Buck.” Steve grits his jaw, his eyes narrowing.

The correspondent continues to drone on, and the sound of the television carries around the common area. “When the dust had cleared, the House—voting almost strictly along party lines—sent two Articles of Impeachment on for trial in the Senate: Article I, for Perjury before the Kenneth Starr Grand Jury, passed 228 to 206, and Article III, for Obstruction of Justice, passed 221 to 212.”

James shakes his head, sneering at the television. “God, don’t get me wrong, I love all the new technology and the advancements we’ve made as a country. Vaccines alone’ve progressed beyond my wildest dreams. But this—a sitting President really actin’ this way, lying under oath and makin’ a mockery of the Presidency?” James scoffs. “It’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, it is. Makes me miss the old days. Things felt so much simpler back then.” Steve uncrosses his arms, running his hands up and down his legs. A beat passes, and he twists his body to turn to look at James, his arm resting on the back on the couch.

James has known Steve long enough to tell when the cogs in his brain are turning. Really, everything Steve does is obvious to him—from the smallest of twitches to the most telegraphed of punches. For decades, it’s been James’s job to interpret all the tiny little signs Steve gives off. It’s just a matter of waiting, now, to see when Steve will crack and voice his opinion. It’s inevitable.

“Hey,” Steve says, his voice soft. He picks up the remote and mutes the TV. “You remember the old days, don’t ya?”

“‘Course I do, punk. I’m never gonna forget them again, ya hear me?” James reaches his hand out and settles it on the side of Steve’s neck. “I remember everythin’.” A smirk graces his lips and James bats his eyes at Steve. James relishes the blush he receives in return. “Like that Saint Patrick’s Day parade in 1923. You ‘member that? Scrawny little four-year-old kid throwin’ himself in front of a little girl when some bullies were tryin’ to take her candy money?”

Steve darts his eyes to James’s chest and then back up again. “Well, _jerk_ , her cousin wasn’t doing much to help her out.” Steve chews on his bottom lip. James can’t tear his eyes away from the movement. “Got a black eye outta it, but I got you, too, so I guess it was worth it.”

“Yeah, punk. Now look at us, seventy-five years later.”

Steve’s eyes have darkened in that way they only do when Steve is searching for an opening or an answer.

“Remember the first time you kissed me?”

James breathes in. Breathes out.

“Of course, Stevie.” He slides closer to Steve, his fingers gentle as they caress the skin of Steve’s neck. “You were beautiful.”

“Well, um—” Steve’s cheeks redden as he stammers over his words. “What about the tree you got me?”

There’s a set between Steve’s eyes, matching his tense muscles, and the aura around him is muted, like he isn’t sure how his question will be received. James blinks once, taking in the wary set of Steve’s shoulders, and tightens his hand around Steve’s neck.

“Punk. We don’t have to do that anymore. We’ll never be in that position again, okay?” His other hand comes up, catching Steve’s cheek, and he scoots across the couch until only whispers of air separate them. “I promise ya. We’ll be okay.”

Steve’s eyes mist over, and it’s like a compulsion is pulling James forward, dragging him into Steve’s space. He can’t help but kiss his eyelids, lingering against Steve’s skin. Salt rubs against his lips, but James ignores it, bussing his way down Steve’s cheek until he meets his mouth, trying to convey love and reassurance with firm pressure.

When they separate, Steve blinks his eyes open, and James smiles, darting back in for another kiss, a second, a third. They lean their foreheads against each other, and calm envelops them in its sweet embrace.

“It’s weird, ya know? I was ashamed that that little tree was all I could provide for ya, but at the same time… You should’ve seen your face, punk. You were so fuckin’ beautiful when you realized what I’d gotten ya.”

“It was everything, Buck.” Steve steals another kiss, and James tightens his grip even more, catching his knees under himself so as to lean over Steve’s body. Their chests press together and Steve leans his head back, a puff of air escaping him when James bites along his neck. James rolls his hips against Steve’s. The contact is muted, and unfairly so, because Steve is absolutely necessary to James’s survival. He drowns himself in the sound of Steve’s gasps.

“Why don’t we—do it again?”

James hums, licking along Steve’s earlobe. “Do what, Stevie?”

Steve’s hand reaches up, his head thrown back, and he grasps the front of James’s shirt, pressing their bodies as close together as he can get, begging for more, his legs reaching up to wrap around James’s waist. It’s enchanting. James’s head spins.

“Let’s make another little tree, Bucky.” Steve sounds _broken_ and James has barely done anything. His head swims through the clouds.

“Alright, punk. Let’s make another little tree.” James nods his head against Steve’s neck and then begins to ruck up Steve’s shirt, skirting his fingers along Steve’s abs. Yeah, sure, he’ll get Steve a tree, but not now. Later. He’s not letting Steve move anytime soon.

* * *

The two of them sneak down to the foyer later that night, stepping into the room in rumpled sweaters with manic grins. Tony has set up a giant fir tree smack dab in the middle of the entryway, decorated with classic white garlands, sprigs of holly, doves, angels, and the like. It’s gorgeous, expensive, and everything you would expect of Tony Stark.

James cuts off one of the branches near the bottom and Steve fluffs the surrounding branches to cover the hole.

“At least the fact that Tony’s compensating for something comes in handy,” James says, chuckling when Steve smacks his arm, a mock look of surprise on his face.

“You love how much smaller he is than you.” Steve shakes his head.

“Yeah, ‘course I do, but it’s hilarious anyway.”

They drag the branch up the stairs and set it up in the common room. Hands grab random items around the house, just as James had done in 1936, throwing waylaid socks inside the branch’s nooks and crannies. Steve runs into the kitchen and pops a bag of popcorn, and they grab some string hanging around to thread through.

It’s just passed one in the morning when Clint drops through a ceiling vent, startling Steve.

“We need ta work on your observational skills.” James huffs, shooting a glare Steve’s way.

“What the hell’re you guys doing?” Clint rubs his nose with one hand while the other lays on his cocked hip.

“We’re decoratin’ a tree, Hawkass. You’ve got 20/20 vision, don’t ya?” James laughs as Clint taps his foot. Clint’s eyes narrow behind his purple sunglasses.

“Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up. Why can’t I see your pickle?”

Steve’s frame freezes, his hands paused between threading another popcorn onto the string. The temperature drops, the air vacating the room, and Clint throws his hands up with wide eyes. James smirks, sliding his eyes up and back down Clint’s body, and winks.

“Aw, man, not like that!” Clint steps back, away from the pair, his hands still in the air. “The pickle ornament! Every tree needs one! Come on, it’s _tradition_ , you gotta.”

The air returns to the room as Steve continues threading the popcorn, albeit slower. “What is it?”

“You keep it next to the tree, and on Christmas Eve, you place it on the tree somewhere, and the first person who finds it has good luck for the new year.” Clint lowers his arms, shifting side to side, still wary. “Or, my favorite, you get to open a present early.”

“That sounds fun, actually.” Steve hums, lowering the string back down to his lap, and tilts his head. “I wonder if the other Avengers have traditions for Christmas.”

James huffs out a laugh, his eyebrow raised. “You haven’t noticed, team leader? They’ve all got somethin’ they do.”

“We should get everyone little ornaments. Nothin’ fancy, but just something to represent them on the tree.”

Clint sits down, pulling a wood carving kit out of his pocket. “I’ll help. Nat’s is the easiest—she attends the Nutcracker and performs part of it in her studio every Christmas Eve.”

“So we can get her some ballet shoes. That would fit her great.” Steve smiles, abandoning the popcorn string completely to instead turn and face Clint and James.

“Why are we getting me pointe shoes?” Natasha stalks into the room, materializing next to Clint. She perches herself on his lap, accepting the kiss Clint gifts her. “It’s a pain breaking in new shoes, and my current pair are still working fine.”

“Oh, we’re discussing tree ornaments.” Natasha’s eyes rake over the tree branch set up, her movements slow and steady, and then she grins over at James.

“We could do a sugar cookie ornament for Bruce,” she says. “He loves to make tin cans to hand out to the homeless shelters.”

“Jan’s hopping on the ugly sweater train. You could knit a small one for her, Steve. I’ve seen you darn your own socks.” Clint waggles his eyebrows at Steve.

“Carol should have a red bulb at the top of the tree. She’s made me sit through A Charlie Brown Christmas too many times,” Natasha adds.

James taps his finger against his lips, and then pulls out a notepad and pen from one of his pockets. “So that’s Clint, Nat, Bruce, Jan, and Carol…”

“Hey, what do you mean, that’s me?” Clint whines out the words and James meets his gaze with apathy.

“The pickle ornament was your idea. It’s what you get.”

“Aw, pickle, no…”

Steve laughs, and the sound is like music to James’s ears, warming him from the inside out. Anything that gets Steve to laugh and smile is enough for James.

“Okay, what about Sam?”

“Well…”

* * *

Sam receives a red robin ornament, in honor of the annual Christmas Bird Count. Quicker than James would’ve expected, Clint forms the piece of wood in his hands into a Yule sun-wheel ornament, since Thor celebrates Yuletide and not Christmas.

Sometime during their planning, Janet and Thor come down and situate themselves on the couch. Janet sprawls across Thor’s lap, humming as he runs his massive hands down her back.

“What about Tony?” she asks, her voice dreamy. “Bestie needs something, too.”

James throws his head back with a sigh, his hair swishing against his neck. “He doesn’t really celebrate Christmas. It’s our anniversary, and that’s all he cares about.”

Janet’s eyes flutter as she arches into Thor’s touch. “Hmm, there’s gotta be something… Thor, can you—? Yes, perfect, _god_.”

Thor laughs, the sound loud and boisterous. “Anthony is the heart of the Avengers, my friends. We would not be together without him. Give him the honor he deserves.”

Janet nods against Thor’s thigh. “Yes, perfect. Maybe a clockwork heart?”

Steve’s eyes light up, a smile splitting his face. “That sounds amazing. I’ll ask JARVIS how to assemble one.”

“It’ll be wonderful, Stevie,” James says. He reaches his metal arm out and catches Steve’s hand, raising it to his lips for a kiss. He whispers across Steve’s knuckles, eyes locked with Steve’s, “You’re wonderful.”

Steve’s blush crawls down his face toward his chest, and his pupils dilate, darting from James’s eyes to the ground and back again in multiple cycles. “Um. Um, I.”

James smirks, straightening out Steve’s fingers, kissing each fingertip—

Janet’s moan breaks the moment and everyone turns to face her. Her eyes are wide, face flushed, and she lets out a small _eep_ before shrinking to Wasp-size, burrowing in Thor’s collar to hide from the group’s gazes.

Natasha is the first to break, laughing into Clint’s shoulder, and Steve follows next. Clint snorts into Natasha’s hair, and that sets off Thor, who drags his finger down Janet’s back.

“Thor gives really good massages! That’s it!”

“Sure, Jan.” James rolls his eyes, but the twinkle gives him away, and Clint falls to the ground with Natasha above him, the two cackling like hyenas.

“ _Sure, Jan_!” Clint repeats.

“What the hell are you white people doing down here?” James turns his head to see Carol and Sam standing at the top of the staircase. “It is four in the morning. Shouldn’t the Avengers be asleep?”

“We’re decorating the Christmas tree branch!” Clint howls, falling back to the ground with tears in his eyes. James shakes his head.

“I’m trying to meditate, you guys…” Bruce comes into view behind Sam and Carol, his fluffy hair rumpled.

“Honestly, you’re lucky your laughing hasn’t disturbed the beast.” Carol smirks down at the group, heading down the stairs toward them. “Tony’s workshop binge is going through all of Pink Floyd’s discography now.”

“He’s got some stuff to finish for SI before the holiday,” Steve says, holding his hand over the left side of his chest.

Carol reaches down and grabs Bucky’s notepad, flipping through the ornament lists. “Oh,” she says, blinking her eyes. “A red bulb for me. That’s… sweet.”

“Everyone deserves to be part of the tree, Air Force.” Steve smiles up at Carol, and she grins, meeting his energy with her own.

“Well, Avengers, we should either queue up a movie or head to bed. Stores don’t open for another few hours.” She settles on the couch next to Thor, glancing at him with a smile, and then double takes. “Jan? Why are you curled up in Thor’s collar?”

James can’t hold back his laughter this time. He joins the group in their uproarious merriment as Carol splutters, looking around in confusion. Sam and Bruce both come down the steps and sit around the group, small smiles on both of their faces.

He looks down at his hand, now intertwined with Steve’s, and his smile fades, if only a bit. Steve meets his gaze, leaning over with a kiss. He breathes against James’s mouth, deep blue eyes glowing, and says, “He’ll join us soon, Buck. I want him here, too.”

* * *

The next evening, after sleep has been had and ornaments gathered, the Avengers once again sit around the tree. The ornaments are placed with care on the branches. James pulls Steve to him, resting Steve’s back against his chest, and wraps his arms around Steve’s tiny waist. He perches his head on Steve’s shoulder, smiling at the little tree in front of them.

JARVIS is playing music in the background, a soft piano arrangement of classic Christmas tunes. There’s a yule log in the fireplace, courtesy of Thor.

Janet strolls into the room, dropping a kiss on Thor’s lips as she passes him on her way to the tree. “Boys, I can’t believe you didn’t get yourself anything.”

“Oh—” Steve tries to sit up, but James pulls him back down, eyes following Janet’s movements. “We don’t need anything for us. Really.”

“Shush. Here. Luckily, we all saw what you were doing.” She pulls out a delicate porcelain teapot, a purple string connected to the handle. “This is for you, James, in deference to your mom. Everyone knows your love of tea comes from her.”

James stills, glancing from the ornament to Janet. Pressure builds behind his eyes, but he ignores it, focusing on breathing. As hard as it’s been for him to really connect with the rest of the Avengers, it’s this—being shown such irrefutable evidence of their love and acceptance of him—that leaves his chest full of bubbles, making him feel weightless, like the constant pressure on his chest can be lifted and replaced with the profound feeling of _belonging_.

He swallows, and it takes a moment before he can stutter out a response. “I… This is… Thank you.”

Janet’s smile is soft, airy and light, like the look in her eyes. She doesn’t mention his emotional turmoil. For that, he’s grateful.

“And of course, we couldn’t forget you, Cap!” Janet places the teapot on one of the branches, careful to nuzzle it back so it won’t fall. She then pulls out a small paint palette. “You never get to paint enough, Cap, and we know how much you love it. It embodies _you_ to us, and we hope you can feel that with this.”

James can’t see Steve’s face, but he can feel the small tremors that wrack his body. He lays a kiss on Steve’s neck, petting a hand down Steve’s side.

Janet places the palette on the tree as well, smiling as she does so, and leans down to Steve, kissing his cheek. Steve reaches his hand up, catching her cheek in turn. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Thank you.”

With that done, she goes over to Thor, sitting across his lap and leaning on his chest. Quiet conversation floats around the common area, from titters of laughter between Natasha and Clint to Carol and Sam’s bickering over plant care.

“What’s this? What’s going on? Did I miss a memo?”

The room brightens like the sunrise cresting the New York skyline as Tony walks over from the basement stairs, one of James’s sweaters falling off his shoulders. Tony eyes the unofficial gathering with confusion, but James simply holds out a hand, and Tony walks over, following James’s lead.

“It’s something we did before, me ‘n’ Stevie,” James says. He grasps Tony’s hand in his, and Tony sits down next to them. “Ma let me snip off a piece of the tree, and I set it up, decoratin’ it with whatever I could find around the house. Stevie was sick, and I wanted to give him somethin’, you know? We were talking the other day, reminiscin’, and Steve said… Well, we should do it again. Make somethin’ outta it.”

Tony smiles, then, and the room positively glows in response. “What’s the topper gonna be, then, soldier?”

“We haven’t been able to agree on that just yet, actually,” Steve says. “Buck made a Star of Bethlehem outta a sock before, but we don’t wanna repeat that. Bruce thinks we should do an angel, but Thor wants a statue of Odin.”

“It will be a glorious likeness!” Thor winks.

Tony stares into the middle distance for a moment, his mind racing, and James waits for Tony’s solution.

“I got it. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve looks back at James with an exasperated sigh, but James smiles, watching Tony trot back down to his lab.

It isn’t even an hour later when Tony returns, snagging one of Bruce’s freshly baked cookies as he goes. He stops in front of the tree, blocking James’s view, and positions something.

“Let me see it, doll,” James says.

Tony spins around, showing off his topper with a blown kiss.

It’s one of the Avengers ID cards, pinned flat to the top of the tree and swaying side to side, and the tiny hologram displayed is rotating in slow circles. James flexes his fingers against Steve’s waist, hiding his face in Steve’s shoulder.

“It’s the team. Our—Our family. Seemed like the best topper I could find for us.” Tony’s not looking at them, and his smile is obviously forced. James bites his lip, his eyes tracking Tony’s movements.

“Baby,” Steve says, and it’s more of a coo than anything, “come here.”

Tony walks over and sits in front of Steve, and Steve pulls his legs until they’re resting over Steve’s and James’s, straddling the two of them. It’s awkward, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind, pulling Tony’s face close and nipping at his lips.

“It’s beautiful.” Steve kisses Tony’s lips again, framing Tony’s face with his hands, and Tony shudders. “You’re perfect, sweetheart.”

“You are.” James looks up from Steve’s shoulder, meeting Tony’s gaze, and smiles.

“Maybe this could be a new Avengers tradition, hm?” Tony asks, and his smile grows in confidence at the murmurs of agreement from the rest of the team.

“That sounds awesome, Stark.” Sam toasts his drink in Tony’s direction.

“Yeah, I love it.” Carol winks at Tony, her lips bright.

Tony blushes at the praise, looking away from the team and at the ground. James tuts, and lifts a hand up to raise Tony’s chin.

“My intelligent baby boy.”

Tony’s smile is a wide, beautiful thing, like a child waking up to a white Christmas. Steve in his arms is a heavy weight, reminding James of everything he’s lost and everything he’s regained in his life. There’s nowhere else James would rather be.


End file.
